


Green Eyed Monsters

by alynwa



Category: Boston Legal
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 06:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/pseuds/alynwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The son of someone from Denny's past has arrived in Boston and seems to Alan to be ingratiating himself into Denny's life. Is there a problem or is Alan just jealous? Thanks to AsuDc for suggesting this story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Alan walked into Denny's office to see him talking animatedly on the phone. He started to leave, but Denny waved him into the room. He settled onto the couch and listened with half an ear while he perused the Boston Globe.

"I think that's a wonderful idea! Sure, sure, six o'clock. See you then." He placed the receiver back in its cradle and looked at the younger man seated across from him. "Hey. How was court?"

"Hey, yourself. Judge Brown was in fine form; he called me 'outrageous and shocking' five times! I'm sure that must be his personal best." He used his chin to point at the phone. "Who were you talking to, if you don't mind my nosiness?"

"Edgar Tomlinson, someone I knew several lifetimes ago. He and I were in love with the same woman. She chose him."

Alan sat forward and put the paper down. "I'm sorry, Denny."

Denny waved his hand dismissively. "Don't be," he replied, "He thought he had pulled one over on me. They had a son they named Benjamin. She called me up when the kid was eight months old. Said she had made a mistake, she should have married me. Told me she had left him and wanted to know was there any hope for us. But, by that time, I was married to my second wife, Clovis. I did sleep with her though. After all, Denny Crane!"

"Anyway, he wants me to meet his son. Ben has been practicing law in New Jersey for years and wants to relocate back to Boston to be nearer his mother. Ed asked if I could help the kid get a job."

"Here?" Alan asked as his eyes widened.

"Hell no," Denny shot back, "Only _you_ got hired here because I liked you and I was familiar with your abilities. I don't know anything about this kid except that he's a lawyer."

Alan started laughing. "Denny, I know how long ago you were married to your second wife. It seems to me that would make this Ben is about my age, maybe a year or two older. That's hardly a 'kid.'"

Denny snorted, "Who cares? I'm just going to meet the son of a former acquaintance who I may or may not help find a job." He checked the time. "Would you like to come with me? I'm meeting them at the bar in the Omni Hotel."

"No, thank you. This sounds like something you need to do on your own. Tell you what: How about I meet you at your condo and we'll have a sleepover? I'll bring hot chocolate and popcorn. There's a John Wayne movie on TCM tonight."

"Perfect!" Denny crowed, "You have the key, just head over there and I'll see you around eight."

BLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBL

Alan was lying on top of the king – sized bed dressed in one of his nightshirts sipping hot chocolate in the bedroom of Denny's condo watching the credits roll for "The Green Berets." _It's ten – thirty; I'm officially worried._ He was reaching for his phone when he heard Denny's key slide into the lock. _Finally!_

"Alan? Are you here?"

The slight slur in Denny's voice caused the younger man to frown. "In the bedroom," he answered. He watched as Denny strolled in obviously feeling very little, if not no pain at all, yanking his tie from around his neck and dropping it onto a chair. "So," he deadpanned, "I take it you, Ed and Ben had a good time."

"Actually, Ed only stayed long enough to introduce us; he said he had to be somewhere else. I thought it would be awkward, but Ben's a great guy; real easy to talk to. We ended up having dinner and after dinner drinks, too."

"I'm really happy for you," Alan replied drily.

"I'm sorry I missed the movie; the time just flew by and before I knew it, it was ten o'clock! Ben walked me out and put me in a cab." Denny toed off his shoes, undid his belt and trousers and sat heavily on his side of the bed as he let his pants drop to the floor. "We still have so much to talk about; we decided to get together for dinner again tomorrow."

"What?" Alan put his mug down. "Did you forget that tomorrow you and I are supposed to be having dinner with those two lovely ladies we met at Fenway Park? I've been looking forward to that for the last week!"

Denny hefted his bulk off the bed to remove his jacket and shirt. He attempted to fold his pants along the pleats, but when he kept twisting the legs, he gave up and threw them on the chair with his tie. "Call them and tell them something work related came up and tell them we'll do it Saturday. Remind them we'll be in a limo and taking them to Ruth's Chris for steak dinners. They'll go along with it, trust me."

Alan was more than a little annoyed. "Fine," he snarled as he turned off his light and snuggled into the bed with his back to his best friend. Moments later, he felt the covers lift and shift as Denny got into bed and turned out his light. Wordlessly, Denny reached over to rub Alan's back and pull lightly on his shoulder. Sighing, he made a decision not to be angry anymore and turned to cuddle up against the older man who immediately put his arm around him, grunted in contentment and quickly dropped off to sleep. For whatever reason, Denny's snoring calmed him so that he could think clearly. _I think I better meet this Ben character. I don't like how easily he influenced Denny to stay out later than he planned. This guy might be a problem._

 


	2. Chapter 2

Denny and Alan took the train to work the next morning.  Before they entered 500 Boylston Street, Denny insisted they stop at the corner Starbucks so he could order an “extra-large American.”

As they were walking into the elevator of their building, Alan was still laughing.  “Denny,” he guffawed, “I keep seeing the look on that poor barista’s face when he tried to get you to say you wanted a ‘Venti Caffe Americano’ and you told him you didn’t give a crap!  Oh!   Oh, I am so glad it’s just us in here.”  He pushed 14 and leaned back and continued giggling softly.  “How can you drink that anyway?  It’s so strong.  I prefer the coffee in our galley.”

“Well, even though I think that bastard was pretentious and stupid, their coffee wakes me up.  I stayed out late on a ‘school night’ so I need it.  Why _do_ they call themselves ‘bastards?’  What’s _that_ about, anyway?  Nevermind, I don’t care.”

Alan was still laughing as they walked into Denny’s office.  “I have to go to my office to get some research Clarence did for me before I head to court.  Are you sure you don’t want to cancel dinner with Ben tonight?  I’m sure he would understand if you’re too tired to meet him.”  He was secretly hoping Denny would do that, but the older man shook his head.

“I’ll be fine.  I’ll take a nap this afternoon.  Don’t worry about me.”

“I do worry about you, Denny.  Is my invitation to join the two of you still good?”

Denny had sat at his desk, pulled out the latest issue of Maxim and tucked it inside his copy of The Boston Globe.  Leaning back in his chair he answered, “Sure it is.”

“Excellent.  I’ll see you after court and for the record, they’re _baristas,_ not bastards.”

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Alan was just settling into his seat on Denny’s balcony when Denny’s cell rang.  He pulled it from his pocket, glanced at the caller ID and answered.  “Hi, Ben, when did I program your number into my phone?  Really?  No, it’s fine.  Yes, yes, they do.  If you want to, sure, why not?  By the way, my best friend Alan will be joining us.  We’ll meet you there in about forty – five minutes?  Good, see you then.”

Alan’s frown originally came from annoyance at having his private time with Denny disturbed, but annoyance turned to concern as his listened to the older man’s end of the conversation.  “Denny?  Had you put Ben’s number in your phone and forgotten?”

“Not to worry, Alan; Ben said he entered it while I was in the men’s room.”

 _I’m really starting to dislike this guy,_ Alan thought.  “Don’t you think that was a little presumptuous of him?  I mean, what if you weren’t getting along?”

“But we _were_ getting along; I was going to ask for his number anyway, so no harm done.”

“Hmmm.  And why do we have to rush our drinks and cigar?  I don’t like having to feel like I’m under some kind of time constraint.”

“Normally, I would agree with you one hundred percent,” Denny replied, “but I’m looking forward to seeing Ben.  I like him.  I want him to like you.”

Alan crossed his legs.  “I see.  And what if _I_ don’t like _him?_ ”

The older man blew several smoke rings before responding, “You’ll like him.”

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Alan didn’t like him.  In fact, he was quite sure that he loathed Benjamin Tomlinson.  His dislike for the man had begun the night before when he kept Denny out late and it had deepened when Denny’s chauffeur had met them and was told to take them to Ruth’s Chris Steak House.  “I hate to sound petulant, but aren’t we taking our dates to Ruth’s Chris tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, so?  It’s not like we’ve never eaten steak two nights in a row before.  Alan, don’t be such a wet blanket; roll with the flow!” Denny had said as he got into the car.

Alan decided to let the mixed metaphors go with no comment and gazed out the window for the brief drive.  Denny pointed out Ben Tomlinson standing outside the restaurant when Dave the chauffeur pulled in front.  As they waited for Dave to exit the vehicle to open the rear door, Alan took the opportunity to observe the man through the tinted window.  He appeared to be Alan’s age and at least as tall and probably taller.  He was a handsome man with dark brown hair cropped military style and he was clean – shaven.  When they joined him on the sidewalk, Alan saw that his eyes were green.

“Ben!” Denny greeted the man, enthusiastically reaching for his hand and shaking it vigorously.  “Good to see you again!  This is Alan Shore, my best friend.”

Ben stuck his hand out.  “Nice to meet you, Al.  I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Alan ignored his hand and replied, “Well, here’s something you obviously _haven’t_ heard about me: No one calls me ‘Al.’”   He then just stared at the man until Denny stepped between them and clapped both younger men on their shoulders.

“C’mon, let’s go eat.”

They had to wait a few minutes for a table so they went to the bar.  Denny chose a seat and Ben and Alan sat on either side of him.  All three men ordered single malt scotch.  “I propose a toast,” Ben declared.  “To friends, old and new.”

Denny responded by raising his glass and saying, “Hear, hear!” and glancing pointedly to his left at Alan who shrugged and raised his glass as well.

“Hear, hear,” he said solemnly and moved his glass to clink against his companions’ glasses before they all took a drink.  _I want to know what is so spectacular about this guy._

“Denny,” Ben asked after he swallowed, “what do you think about these crazy women who want to be able to have combat roles in the Armed Forces?  _I_ think it’s just ridiculous.”

Alan listened with feigned interest as Denny began to speak, but as he and Ben regaled each other with their opinions about women in the military, Social Security, immigration, among other things, Alan began to realize something.  _My God, this Ben character is a poster boy for the Republican Party!  No, make that the Tea Party; he has got to be the most conservative man I have ever had the displeasure of meeting.  And Denny’s agreeing with him!_

They were called for their table and as they were seated Alan was thinking _I don’t want to pick a fight with Ben for Denny’s sake, but I don’t know how much more of this I can take!_ After they placed their meal orders, he said to Denny, “I’m a little surprised to hear you agreeing with Ben about the death penalty.  I thought you had softened your stance after I told you about the prisoner I saw executed in Texas.”  He looked at Ben and remarked, “He was given a lethal injection even though I argued before their Appellate Court that there was sufficient reasonable doubt about his guilt to commute his sentence.  They killed him anyway.”        

“Well, Alan, this is my take on that:  That guy may have _been_ innocent of the crime he was executed for, but we all know that your basic criminal types have committed crimes for years.  Think of his getting a ‘hot shot’ as punishment for all the crimes he did and was never caught.”

“That’s what I like about you, Ben,” Denny chimed in, “you make me see things in a different light.  Have you ever thought about the death penalty that way, Alan?”

“I can’t say that I have.  Denny, I’m starting to feel…nauseous.  I don’t think I’m going to be able to stay.  Could you call Dave to come back to get me?”

“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, Alan,” Ben said, “Perhaps I could give you a ride rather than you waiting for your driver?”

 _Truth be told,_ Alan thought, _you don’t look sorry at all.  Let’s see how you look when Denny says he’s leaving, too!_

“Alan, do you want me to come with you?  I will if you do, but I didn’t eat lunch today…”

Alan’s heart dropped.  _He’s choosing Ben’s company over mine?  I don’t believe this is happening._ “You know what, Denny?  Why don’t you stay and have dinner; don’t bother calling Dave, I’ll catch a cab.  I don’t think my stomach is getting any better.”  He stood and reached into his jacket pocket for Denny’s coat check ticket and handed it to him.

To Alan it seemed as if Denny was about to say something when Ben said, “I hope you feel better, Alan.  It was a _real_ pleasure meeting you.” 

He was sorely tempted to punch him square in his smug face.  Instead, he replied, “Enjoy your dinner” and turned to leave.

“Wait, are you heading back to the condo?”

“No, Denny.  I’m going to my hotel.  Goodbye.”

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Alan was dozing off and on when he heard a key go into his door.  Only one person had a key.  _Denny,_ he thought as he opened his eyes and checked the clock/radio, _midnight?  Really?_

He could hear Denny opening and closing his five cubic feet refrigerator followed by what sounded like him getting undressed and dropping his suit on the recliner.  He was as familiar with Alan’s hotel room as his own condo and navigated it easily in the dark.  Sure enough, Denny entered the bedroom soundlessly wearing just his socks and underwear.  He sat on the other bed and rubbed his face with both hands.

“Don’t tell me: You and Ben were having such a great time, the hours just flew by.”

Startled, Denny jumped slightly and then said, “You’re awake!  You forgot about your dinner.  I had them wrap it up.  You can have it for lunch.  How are you feeling?”

“Slightly better.  Denny, I have to tell you: I don’t like your new friend.  I think he is bringing out the worst in you.” 

“Look, Alan.  You don’t feel well and I’m pretty snockered.  This isn’t the best time for this conversation.  We’ll talk in the morning.  G’night.”  And with that, he got into the Alan’s spare bed and rolled over to sleep.

It wasn’t the first time Denny had slept over and stayed in the other bed, but this time… _This time feels like he is a little angry at me.  I don’t like this at all.  We will be speaking about this tomorrow, my friend.  We will, indeed._


	3. Chapter 3

Alan awoke at seven – thirty to a foggy, rainy Saturday morning.  G _reat, this weekend just keeps getting better and better._ He rolled his eyes as he sat up in bed.  _Sarcasm first thing in the morning doesn’t bode well for the rest of the day._ He looked across at Denny who was still asleep and snoring lightly.  _With no sun shining in here, he’ll probably sleep another hour and considering he’s been out late the last two nights, possibly longer._

He got up, pulled off his sleeping cap and slipped on his robe.  Jamming his feet into his slippers, he went into his sitting room and called Room Service to order a pot of coffee, a couple of buttered rolls and a newspaper.  He walked over to stand at the French glass doors overlooking his terrace.  _Not counting the time I tried to jump off it during one of my night terrors, I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been out there.  I don’t particularly care for this terrace; it’s too small for Denny and me.  Oh, Denny.  Beyond the fact that this Ben is an insufferably close – minded, bigoted boor who is apparently doing his level best to return you to the equally close - minded right – wing Republican that you were when we first met, there is something else about him that is bothering me.  I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s_ something!

A knock on his door pulled him from his reverie.  He accepted the cart from the bellhop before tipping him generously.  He poured himself a cup and sat down with his paper.  His first few sips made him feel a little better.  Going over his last conversation with Denny he thought, _Denny was right; last night wasn’t the time to discuss Ben.  We have to discuss this today though, I don’t want this hanging over us when we’re out with our dates tonight._

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Denny woke up around ten AM.  He accepted the cup of coffee Alan proffered gratefully.  “Man, my head is fuzzy this morning!”  He saw the remaining buttered roll.  “Is that all there is to eat around here?”  When Alan nodded _yes,_ he said, “I have a suggestion.  How about you shower and dress while I eat this and call Dave to come get us?  Then I’ll get ready.”

“That’s a deal, Denny, on one condition: We have to talk about Ben.  Today.”

“I _want_ to talk about Ben; there’s something I want to tell you, but not now.  Let’s talk after we’ve gotten back to the house and eaten a proper meal.”

“Fine.”

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Alan had brought his steak dinner from the night before and ate that while Denny ate a sandwich prepared by his cook.  They deliberately kept the conversation light.  Afterwards, the two men sat in the living room drinking coffee and relaxing.     Denny began the talk by saying, “I get the feeling that you don’t care for Ben.  Why is that?”

Alan hung his head and stared at his lap for a few moments before speaking.  He knew that if he approached this wrong, his friend would dig in his heels and fight him tooth and nail.  “Denny,” he began, “do you remember the first time we slept together?”

The older man stared at him, obviously surprised by the question.  “Yes, we were at the lodge at Nimmo Bay.  Why?”

“You are a very different man today than the one I woke up with that morning.  That Denny never would have tied himself to me and shared my bed to make sure I didn’t hurt myself during a night terror or voted for Barack Obama.  He was homophobic, xenophobic and an egomaniac to boot, but I knew that inside was a great man with a good heart.  I like to think that our friendship has brought that great man to the surface.”

“I don’t like Ben because I see him burying the Denny Crane I’ve come to know and love and resurrecting that man who was terrified that he was gay now because I had shared his bed.  Do you really not see this, Denny?”

“You know, Ben and I talked about you last night after you left.”

“Did you now?  And what was it about me you thought needed discussing with Ben?”

“Well, our meals came about fifteen minutes after you left.  I tasted my steak and it was superb so I mentioned to him that I was sorry you hadn’t felt well and _he_ said he thought it was his fault that you left; that he must have made you feel out of place.”

Alan sputtered, “Out of _place?_ How so?”

Denny waved his hands around.  “Well,” he said, “I’m a mainstream Republican, he’s a Tea Party Republican and you’re a left – leaning Democrat.  He pointed out that he and I have much more in common politically than you and I do so you were probably feeling…”  He trailed off and sipped his now lukewarm coffee.

“What?  Like I fell down the rabbit hole?  _What?_ ”

“Jealous that you weren’t the focus of all my attention.”

Alan was livid.  “Why would I be jealous of that pompous _ass?_   No, I wasn’t jealous; however, I _will_ tell that I was hurt that you didn’t take my side when I said I was leaving.”

“What side, Alan?  You said you were sick!  I didn’t think you looked so bad that you couldn’t travel alone.  You didn’t even want Dave to come; you said you would call a cab!”

Alan was shouting now.  “Because you weren’t leaving with me!  I’m your best friend!  How could you choose to stay when I said I was ill?”

Denny pointed accusingly and shouted back, “Omigod, you _are_ jealous!  Well, let me tell you something, my friend: You better get over yourself because I’m sponsoring Ben for a position at the firm!”

Alan felt like he had been slapped.  “You’re offering him a job at Crane Poole and Schmidt?  In Trial Law?”

Denny took a deep calming breath.  “No, in Wills, Estates and Trusts.  That was his specialty in New Jersey.  He presented a really strong case for wanting a position with us.”

“You mean, he kissed your behind as hard as he could,” Alan snarked.  He regretted it before the words cleared his mouth.  “I’m sorry, Denny, that just…came out,” he finished lamely.

Denny opened his mouth to say something and then closed it.  He stood up and walked to the window and looked outside for what, to Alan, seemed hours even though it couldn’t have been longer than five minutes.  When he turned around, he looked tired.  “Alan, I don’t like arguing with you, but here we are and I don’t like this stance you’ve taken.  In fact, I don’t think I want to go out with you tonight.  I’m calling Margie and telling her that we’re still on, but the double date with you and Karen is off.”

“Karen won’t go if it’s not a double date!  She said as much when we met.”

Denny ignored him and dialed Margie’s number.  “Hi, Margie, it’s Denny Crane.  Yes, we’re still on for tonight, but Alan won’t be able to make it.  Oh, was she?  Well, my understanding is that Alan will be available about two hours after our dinner reservation.  No?  She’s a scaredy cat, huh?  Listen, I think I have an answer.  Another friend of my mine could escort Karen.  Of _course_ he’s nice!  Terrific, we’ll pick you and Karen up at your place.  Bye!”  He ended the call and looked at the younger man staring at him in disbelief.  “Seems like your evening is free, Alan.”

Alan stood there silently as feelings of hurt, betrayal, jealousy and anger warred within him for dominance.  “I see,” he said finally, “Well, I guess I should just get my things and head back to my hotel.  And this time, I _would_ like Dave to drive me.”

The older man saw the expression on Alan’s face and knew he had crossed a line.  “You don’t have to leave, Alan.  Stay.”

“And watch you leave knowing that you’ve arranged for _my_ date to go out with Ben, you and Margie?  No, thank you.”  He walked to the doorway and just before he stepped into the hall, he turned back to face Denny and said, “There was a time when I would have just trashed our friendship here and now because I would have felt that my natural unloveableness had resurfaced.  I know better than that now.  Because of _you,_ Denny, I know that I am not unloveable and because I know _that,_ I am going to be a better friend to you than you are being to me now.  I will speak with you later.”  And, with that, he left.

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After Dave dropped him back at his hotel, he went into his room, changed into sweatpants and a T-shirt and ordered a bottle of Scotch for now and placed a dinner order for later.  He sat at the table next to the window that overlooked the City with his cell phone and telephone book.  The majority of his contacts’ numbers were stored in his phone, but some he preferred to keep the old fashioned way.  The first number he called was a landline to a house in a suburb on the opposite side of Boston from Denny.  It was answered on the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

“Carl, it’s Alan Shore, how are you?”

“Fine.  What do you want?”

“What I always want: Your fiancée.  May I speak with her, please?”

Alan heard a long, put – upon sigh come through the phone.  “Don’t make me regret this, Shore.  Hold on.”

After a few moments, a feminine voice came on the line.  “Alan, to what do I owe this weekend pleasure?”  

“I need a favor, Shirley.  Denny will come to you on Monday with an attorney named Ben Tomlinson and tell you he wants CP&S to hire him for the Wills, Estates and Trusts Division.  I want you to stall him, Shirley.  I don’t care what you have to tell him, but do not offer Tomlinson a position before I get back to you.”

“Do I dare ask why not?”

“Let’s just say I am running a background check on Mr. Tomlinson.”

“Let’s say that, then.  Enjoy the rest of your weekend, Alan.  Goodbye.”

“Bye, Shirley.”  Alan ended the call and then dialed a number he had retrieved from his phonebook.  When the line was picked up he said, “It’s Alan Shore.  I need you to look into an attorney from New Jersey named Benjamin Tomlinson.  I want to know what time he went to the bathroom six months ago and everything he’s done since then.  Yes, the usual fee, plus a one thousand dollar bonus if you can get me verifiable information no later than Tuesday evening.  Yes, I’ll be reachable at this number.  Yes.  Goodbye.”

As he poured himself a drink he thought, _Something is rotten in Denmark, Ben, and I think it’s you.  And I’ll find out, soon._


	4. Chapter 4

Monday morning found Shirley Schmidt in her office sipping a cup of Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee.  She had been there since seven AM.  Like many of the attorneys in her firm, she liked to get an early start on her day.  Today was supposed to be an easy one as she was not scheduled to be in court or meet with any of her clients.  _Just a day to catch up on paperwork and perhaps, leave at a reasonable hour.  At least that’s what I was planning before Alan’s call on Saturday.  As usual, he had been his characteristically cryptic self.  “Background check” he had said.  I hope he never has the urge to run a “background check” on me!_ She was so deep in thought that when a shadow came across her desk, she jumped.

“That is not the reaction I was hoping for,” Carl said as he leaned down to claim her mouth with his own.  He broke off the kiss.  “After last night I thought we’d be sleeping in; imagine my consternation when I awoke alone.  We’re not even married yet and already I’ve lost my touch?”

She stood up and embraced him.  “Absolutely not.  In fact, last night was so… _satisfying_ that I slept the sleep of the totally satisfied and debauched and that is why I am so refreshed right now.”

“Oh, is that so?  Tell me, Carl, how did you manage to do that?  And spare no details!”

They broke apart at the sound of Denny’s voice at the doorway.  “Don’t you ever knock, Crane?” Carl snarled in mock anger and real frustration.

“Door’s open.”

Shirley walked around Carl to stand in front of her desk which allowed Denny a chance to appreciate the form – fitting, exquisitely tailored navy blue skirt suit she was wearing.  The pastel pink man – tailored blouse she wore was open at the neck with a pink and navy scarf.  “You look beautiful as always, Shirley.  What’s with the scarf?  Does that have anything to do with last night?”

The platinum blonde rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.  “Is there something you wanted, Denny?”

“Yes.  I want to hire another attorney for Wills, Estates and Trusts.  His name is Ben Tomlinson; he can start immediately.  He’s a good guy.”

“I’m sure he is a perfectly lovely man, Denny; however, I don’t approve the hire of _anyone_ sight unseen.  I need to meet this Ben.”

“And then you’ll approve his hire?”

“And then, I’ll think about it.  Can he be here this afternoon at four?”

“I’ll see to it.  I have some articles I’m late reading so I’ll leave you two to whatever it was you were doing.  See you later,” Denny said as he turned and headed back to his office.

Carl walked over to the door and shut it.  “’I have some articles to read’ is Denny – speak for ‘I have the latest issue of Jugs magazine and want to look at it.’”

Shirley laughed as she moved up behind him and circled her arms around him.  “This is one of those times I wish we didn’t have glass walls.  I suggest you leave before we scandalize the neighbors and scare the horses.”

He laughed and dropped a kiss upon her nose before leaving.  “I’ll see you later.”

She watched him walk down the hallway to the conference room before she closed the door and walked back to her desk.  She picked up her phone and pressed “3” on her speed dial.  The call was answered on the third ring.

“Alan Shore.”

“I’m meeting Denny and this Ben Tomlinson at four this afternoon.”

“I understand.  My investigator said he has information for me; I’m meeting him at one.  If it’s juicy, I’ll be there for the meeting.  I’ll see you later.”

“I hope so.”

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Alan arrived at Toby’s Shamrock Pub at a quarter to one and took a seat at the booth farthest from the entrance.  He ordered a beer and an order of fries.  Toby’s made awesome burgers, he and Denny tried to get here often, but today he just wanted to take care of business and eating a burger didn’t mix with that.

At exactly one, he saw his private investigator come through the door.  He waved him back to his booth while signaling the bartender to bring a beer for his companion.  The man sat down just as his beer arrived.  He took a deep draw from it and sighing contentedly said, “Hello, Alan.  Not only are you giving me a thousand dollar bonus on top of my fee for being expedient with getting this info, you’re going to give me _another_ thousand because of _what_ I brought you.”

Alan popped a fry into his mouth and said, “Is that so, Robert?” before reaching for the envelope the PI proffered.  He extracted the report and began scanning.  He flipped through a few pages and smiled.  “Yes, I am.  I am, indeed.”  He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a business sized envelope and his checkbook.  “I’ll write a check for the extra grand.  Care to join me for lunch?” he asked as he quickly wrote out a check and handed it to the man along with the envelope.

Robert opened the envelope and flicked his fingers quickly through the hundred dollar bills.  Confirming the amount, he looked up and smiled.  “No, thanks,” he answered as he tucked his check into the envelope and placed it into his inner jacket pocket, “I prefer we keep our relationship strictly business.”

Alan held out his hand.  “As do I.  It gives me plausible deniability.  Until next time.”

Robert shook his hand, stood up, said “Goodbye,” and left Alan to leisurely peruse his report in detail.  The more he read, the more he despised Benjamin Tomlinson and couldn’t wait to expose him.  _This is going to be a very informational meeting this afternoon.  Indeed._

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Denny and Ben had been sitting in his office for the last twenty minutes chatting amiably after which they strolled to Shirley Schmidt’s office.  Both men were feeling confident, but for very different reasons.  Denny was thinking _Once Ben comes on board, Alan will see that he’s wrong about him.  He’s going to be an asset to the firm._ Ben was thinking _As soon as I start working here, I’ll be able to follow through with my plans._

They arrived at Shirley’s door and this time Denny knocked on the doorframe before stepping inside.  “Shirley, I’d like you to meet Benjamin Tomlinson.  His father and I were… _acquaintances_ many years ago.” 

Shirley extended her hand.  “It’s nice to meet you.  How are you, Ben?”

“I’m fine, Ms Schmidt, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She motioned for them to be seated as she returned to her desk.  “Please.  Call me Shirley,” she said.

A voice from the doorway said, “Actually, I think you should continue to call her Ms Schmidt.  I hope I’m not late.”  Alan came in, shut the door and took a seat on Shirley’s couch.

Ben seemed slightly surprised to see him, but recovered enough to say, “Hello, Alan; Denny didn’t tell me you were going to be a part of the interview.”

“Denny didn’t know and before the interview begins, I have some information to share with you all.”

Denny swiveled around in his chair and stared.  “What is this about, Alan?  Can’t it wait?”

Alan smiled thinly at his friend.  “No, it can’t wait because the information I have concerns Mr. Tomlinson here plus you and Shirley.”  He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a sheaf of papers.

Ben’s eyes narrowed.  “What are you talking about?  What information?”

Alan ignored him and looked at Shirley.  “Do you remember when we went to dinner while Denny and Carl were in Virginia?”*  At her nod, he asked, “Did you ever meet your second husband’s brother, the one you overheard him speaking to on the phone?”

“No, Ed lived out of state and since Dewitt and I eloped, there was no family from either side at the wedding.”

Impatiently, Denny butted in, “What does that idiot Dewitt have to do with anything?  That’s ancient history!”

Alan placed his right ankle on top of his left knee and replied, “It _should_ be ancient history, but old Ben there can tell you that it’s not.  Denny, did you know that your former love rival is Dewitt Peterson’s half – brother?”

“ _What?_ How do you know that?” Denny was shocked.  He looked at Ben.  “Is that true?’ he asked.

Before Ben could answer, Alan stated, “Yes, it’s true.  Same mother, different fathers.  I paid my investigator _very_ well to look into your past, Ben.  Everything in this report is verified.  Shirley Schmidt’s ex – husband Dewitt Peterson is your uncle.  His half – brother, Edgar Tomlinson, your father, was in a love triangle with Denny and your mother until she chose him over Denny.  She left your father when she realized she had made a mistake; your father was not what she thought he was.  He was an abusive jerk.”

“That’s not true!  My Dad’s and my uncle’s lives were _ruined_ by the two of you!” Ben hissed.  He glared at Shirley.  “My uncle just wanted to be a part of your law firm and you threw him out of your life and had _him,”_ he jerked his thumb at Denny, “do your dirty work for you.  You took _everything_ from him!  He went to New Jersey to start over, but his firm never reached the height of fame or wealth of Crane Poole and Schmidt!”  He turned his attention to Denny.  “And you!  You seduced my mother, made her believe you would marry her if she left my father and then you dumped her.  You’re despicable!”

“And that is why you haven’t spoken to her for years,” Alan said calmly as he looked over his report, “And yet you told Denny that you wanted to move back to Boston to be closer to her.  Tell the truth now; why did you _really_ want to work at Crane Poole and Schmidt?  Besides the fact that your uncle’s become a raging alcoholic whose firm is failing.  Yes, Shirley and Denny; Ben was an attorney in his uncle’s practice until he could no longer afford to employ him.”

Ben looked down at the floor while three pairs of eyes bore down on him as he weighed his options.  _It makes no difference now,_ he thought _._ “My mother’s will is in the Wills, Estates and Trusts Division here.  She told me a long time ago that she had disinherited me because she was tired of me blaming her for not having my father in my life.  I planned to pull her will, amend it to make me her sole heir and then forge her signature and present it as her revised will.  She would never know her will was changed.”   He looked at Denny.  “You broke up my parents; breaking up your friendship with Alan Shore was just an added bonus.  Shirley, you broke my uncle’s heart; I hadn’t decided exactly _what_ to do to get back at you, but I figured I had time to think of something that would embarrass you and the firm.”

Denny’s face had turned so red he looked like he was about to pop.  “You _bastard!_ Lying, conniving _bastard!”_ he screamed as he launched himself at Ben who scrabbled out of the chair to take a defensive stance.

“Denny! No!” Alan leapt up and grabbed Denny before he could reach Ben.  Shirley meanwhile grabbed her phone to call Security.  The ensuing fracas brought Carl Sack and Paul Lewis racing to Shirley’s office along with Clarence Bell, who when he saw Alan holding Denny back from a belligerent Ben, turned into Clevant.  Grabbing the man, he shoved him back into a chair yelling, “Sit yo’ ass down!” in Clevant’s deep commanding voice which actually caused _everyone_ in the room to freeze.

“Um, um, um,” Clarence stuttered, “Do you need me to stay, Alan?”  His knees almost buckled completely with relief when Alan said _no_.   As he turned to leave, Clevant showed himself one more time.  “Don’t _make_ mecome back in here!” he snarled, “Or I’ll kick yo’ ass six ways to Sunday!”  He walked past the two Security guards Shirley had called.

Alan still had his arms around Denny as he stood between the older man and Ben.  “Are you alright?” he asked as Denny was panting from the exertion of trying to get to Ben.  “Denny, sit.  Please.  Let me take care of this.”  He looked at Shirley.  “Please ask the guards to wait outside until you call them.”

Shirley did as Alan asked and when the guards closed the door behind them, Alan hitched his hip up on the side of Shirley’s desk, crossed his arms and stared at Ben who was still standing.  “Paul, Carl, Shirley and Denny; you are my witnesses to what I’m about to say and Ben, I have a _lot_ to say to you.”

 

*ref, to my story “Shirley.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

“Ben, I understand feeling like you want to avenge the wrongs you believe were done to your family.  I won’t waste my time breaking down all the lies your father and uncle told you about their relationships with Denny and Shirley.  I _will_ say that they were very smart about it; they mixed in just enough truth to make their lies sound believable.  You have spent half your life being driven by a hatred born of the lies of jealous mediocre men.”

Ben snarled, “I don’t believe you!”

Alan snorted, “I know.  It doesn’t matter.  _This_ is what matters:  You are through here.  And I don’t just mean Crane Poole and Schmidt.  I mean you are through not only in Boston, but in Massachusetts, too.  You will be blacklisted from working at any law firm, large or small, in the state.  I will see to it personally.”

Denny had regained his breath enough to speak.  “I will see you disbarred!  Alan, why don’t we call the police on this son of a bitch?”

Paul Lewis, who had been standing near the door with his mouth open, finally spoke up.  “I don’t have the details, but has this young man broken any laws?”

Shirley shook her head.  “No,” she said, “Thanks to Alan, he wasn’t able to put his plans into action.  He can’t be prosecuted for what amounts to, at this point, wishful thinking.”  She rubbed her forehead and moaned, “After all these years, to have Dewitt’s nonsense intruding on my life _again!_ It’s almost too much to bear.”  She looked so stricken that Carl moved toward her, knelt down and hugged her.

“Ben,” Alan barked, “You have three days to clear out and take your father with you.  And don’t think I won’t know if you don’t leave.  I have a network of… _specialists,_ shall we say, that I employ when I need to make use of their various talents.  The private investigator who dug up this information for me is one of them.”

Ben looked Alan up and down.  Green eyes snapping with fury, he sneered, “And what are you going to do if I stay in Massachusetts?  Kill me?”

Alan leaned forward with a feral grin that matched his dead fish – eye stare.  Ben actually backed up a step.  “ _I_ won’t kill you,” he intoned icily.

Ben blanched.

“Just leave,” Shirley ordered, “Just leave now, while you still can.”

Paul opened the office door and signaled the two guards.  “Escort this man out of the building and make a note that he is never to be allowed to enter again.”

They watched him go and sighed with relief when he and the guards stepped onto the elevator.  Paul looked at the small group and said, “Well if all the excitement is over, I have work to do.”

“Thank you for your help, Paul,” Alan said.  After he left, Alan sat down next to Denny who was still slumped dejectedly on the sofa.  “Denny, I’m going to call Dave.  I think you should go to the house to get some rest.”

“That’s a good idea,” Shirley agreed.  “Alan, I think you should go with him.  Denny, I don’t want to see you here the rest of the week.  Alan, what does your case load look like this week?”

“Not to worry, Shirley; Jerry and Katie are familiar with all my cases as is Clarence.”

Carl had let go of Shirley and was sitting on her desk.  “Good.  Take some time off to look after him,” he said softly.

Pulling out his cell to call the chauffeur, Alan replied, “I intend to.”

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Denny had been unusually quiet since Ben was escorted out of the building.  He didn’t speak on the ride home and barely acknowledged his household staff.  Alan asked Olympia the cook to prepare lamb chops, asparagus and roasted red potatoes, one of Denny’s favorite meals, for dinner.  He had Rodeo retrieve a fine Merlot from the wine cellar.

They ate in the dining room; or rather, Alan ate and watched Denny mostly push his food around the plate.  He did eat a couple of bites before getting up and heading upstairs.  Alan opted to finish eating before joining him.  _French fries and a beer just aren’t enough to take me through to bedtime._

He walked into the master bedroom to see Denny sitting at his small round bistro table sipping a glass of scotch.  Wordlessly, Alan poured himself a drink and sat across from the older man.  He swallowed some of the liquid and felt it going down his throat like a hot river.  “Are you planning on ever speaking again, Denny?”

Denny looked out the window.  “We’re alone, Alan.  You can say it now.”

Brows furrowed in confusion, Alan replied, “I can say _what_ now?  I don’t understand.”

The older man took another sip.  “You can say ‘I told you so’ now.  That I was an ass to get taken in so completely.  That I’m a gullible old fool whose Mad Cow…no, whose _Alzheimer’s_ has affected his judgment yet again.”  He rubbed his reddening eyes and seemed to age before Alan’s eyes.

“Mr. Crane, I’ll have you know you are casting aspersions on my best friend and I don’t appreciate it,” Alan remarked in what he hoped was a mood lightening tone of voice.  _I’ve never seen him look so defeated!_ “Denny, look at me.”  After a few seconds, he did and Alan said, “Denny, he deliberately set out to beguile you.  He said whatever he thought he had to say to get on your good side. We’re all attorneys; we are all well trained in presenting ourselves the way we want people to perceive us.”

“And we’re all trained to sniff out bullshit!  The moment you met him, hell, even _before_ you met him, you knew something wasn’t right!  You tried to tell me, but I wouldn’t listen.  I thought you were just jealous.”  He lurched up from the chair so fast, it fell over.  “Why didn’t I _listen!”_ Denny picked the chair up and went over to his bed and plopped down upon it.  “How am I going to trust my judgment about anything?”

Alan picked the scotch decanter up from the table and went to sit on his side of the bed.  He leaned over and refilled Denny’s glass and then refilled his own.  After he put his glass and the decanter on his night stand, he toed off his shoes, pulled off his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt.  “Denny, I’ll admit that sometimes you act impulsively when perhaps a little more thought would be prudent, but if it were _not_ for your impulsive actions, I would never have come to work for Crane Poole and Schmidt.  From what I’ve heard from Shirley and seen for myself, not listening to anyone has been a Denny Crane trademark for years.”

Denny decided to follow Alan’s lead and get ready for bed, too.  As he undressed and changed into his silk pajamas he said, “Now that you mention it…When you put it that way, it’s in my nature to be stubborn.”

Alan leaned against the headboard and grinned.  “Indeed.  You didn’t listen when everyone, including your father, told you your client was guilty of murder.  You didn’t have Mad Cow then.  Toss me my nightshirt, please.”

“You’re right, Alan!  Ben got past my BS monitor, but that doesn’t mean that I’m losing my mind.  My last doctor’s appointment showed the Mad Cow hasn’t progressed yet.”

Alan slipped on his nightshirt and slid under the covers.  “Exactly.  No one is perfect; just because that sleaze flew under your radar doesn’t mean that’s always going to happen.  I trust your judgment, Denny.  I always have.”

Denny got into bed and held his left arm out until Alan moved closer and placed his head on his chest.  He rubbed his back and said, “I should have trusted _your_ judgment, Alan.  You are the only person in my life who looks out for my best interests.  Even Shirley, as much as I love her, looks out for Carl’s interests ahead of mine.”

“Well, he _is_ her fiancé after all.”

“So what?”  He reached behind him to turn out his light.  “You want to watch TV or just go to sleep?”

“We’ve both had a day, Denny.  Let’s go to sleep.  Goodnight.”

“G’night,” Denny said.  He started dozing off and then a thought occurred to him.  “Alan?”

“Hmmm?”

“I bet you he wasn’t even a real Republican.”

Alan laughed and settled in closer.  As he started to be pulled down into sleep he thought, _Denny’s going to be okay.  And if Ben wants to be okay, he’ll not call my bluff.  Ever._    

 


End file.
